


A Furious Fixation

by Paintedwildd



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: F/F, Female Character of Color, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paintedwildd/pseuds/Paintedwildd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the former wives and Furiosa arrive back at the Citadel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know the line is vexation in the movie but you will see why this title is fitting ;)  
> Oh and I shamefully stole the name Plenty from another amazing author Proprioception. Sorry, it was just too good a name!

Ino forces herself to drag her eyes from the scene below, as the Wretched barbarically tear apart flesh and limbs. The drumming of war pups reverberating in her chest as she makes her way to the Milking rooms, unsure of what to say. She just knows she needs to help.  
She runs to Plenty, the senior woman who cares for all the Mothers. She is trying her best to calm a group of hysterical women with her rasping and soothing voice when she is interrupted. Plenty turns to Ino with hooded eyes and a solemn smile.  
"Furiosa, the wives. They need our help." Ino stammers. Plenty considers the implications of the young girl's suggestion for a few beats and then breathes out a long sigh.  
"Yes we should. Take this morning's batch. The Pups haven't yet finished it." She gives Ino a look of approval and resumes trying to quell the panic spreading all around them like lit fuel. 

Ino had been one of his wives. But all that she birthed was mangled and still. Milk was all she had been good for. Despite being smaller and thinner in stature than the other Milking Mothers, her pregnancies had always been preceded by an overabundance of milk in her breasts. It's the only thing that had saved her and she shudders thinking if her biology had been any different.

Ino runs through the corridors trying to find them. She pushes past hoards of people, milking mothers and pups alike, all discussing the news of Immortan Joe’s death. Their frantic voices bounce off the curved walls of the Citadel and echo the hammering of thoughts in Ino’s own head. He’s dead, he’s really dead. She was there of course. Peering over the edge as the dark haired man peeled off the white sheet, uncovering Joe’s ashen body splattered with red. She wasn’t sure if it was that sickly powder or the sudden lack of life that made him look so pale. Thinking of him for too long makes bile rise in her throat so she pushes back the the images.  
Where where they? She hopes that she hasn’t missed them as they ascended into the Citadel. She rounds the corner entering the vehicle loading bay. At first she sees only the wretched that had climbed onto the platform and Citadel workers trying to contain them, finally she sees them. There are only four now. White gauze billowing over their thin frames. Dirt, sweat and grease telling tales of what they had just endured. They hadn’t noticed her yet as their attention was focused on their liberator, too weak to stand. They strain to support her weight, the red haired wife taking most of it, Furiosa’s good arm slung around her shoulder while the dark skinned wife struggles to support her side with half an arm. Furiosa groans and appears to be struggling for breath. Her right eye swollen shut and her dirt stained clothes still caked in blood. Ino has never seen the Imperator without her metal prosthetic and she has never seen her so vulnerable.

Dag is the first to notice her. The rest of the former wives are busy fretting over Furiosa’s wounds and where in the Citadel they should go. Cheedo protests that she’s “not sleeping in that horrid vault!” and the rest softly hum in agreement. The Dag awkwardly gestures toward Ino, swinging the Keeper’s bag of seeds and almost spilling them onto the floor, causing the other’s to look up.  
They see Ino standing in the entrance way. Her slim but curvaceous body, clad only with a single white shawl around her waist. It is a stark contrast to her skin which is dark as engine grease, her bare breasts rising and falling with each nervous breath. She takes a tentative step towards them, arms outstretched with the large container of milk she has brought for them.

“My name is Ino, I speak for the Milking Mothers”  
The girls visibly begin to relax, tension leaving their bodies. Dag and Cheedo bridge the space between them leaving the others to tend to Furiosa.  
“We are on your side” Ino says softly. “ Take this milk. Dab it on any wounds and they will heal faster.” She peers over their shoulders at the battered Imperator. “Will she be okay?”  
“We don’t know” Dag replies, gathering the container of milk into her arms. “The Organic Mechanic is gone. At least that schlanger eater would know how to fix a punctured lung”  
Ino barely understood any of the words the blonde wife had just spat out, but thinks of how she can help.  
“Ask a Pup to show you to the Organic’s workshop, there will be tools. Maybe books....” and finally she adds “You can sleep in our quarters if you like? With the rest of the Mothers. ”  
There is silence as the two wives consider her proposal. Cheedo shares a meaningful look with the Dag and finally blurts out “Yes! we’ll take it!”  
Dag appears to be both irritated and relieved. She doesn’t trust easily but at least they know where they are sleeping tonight.  
A grin spreads across Ino’s face. She is unsure of how the Mother’s will feel about this but she is also excited. Things are changing in the Citadel and she is finally useful for something other than milk. “Follow me. I’ll show you the way”  
“Thanks, by the way” blurts the Dag, the corner of her mouth turned up in a sheepish smile.  
Ino nods and waits for the other wives to reach them with Furiosa. The presence of the Imperator makes her heart beat loudly in her chest. The one the older Mother’s had talked about and Ino had dreamed about as a young girl.  
The one who set herself free. Now she had set them all free.


	2. Chapter 2

The Milking mothers' living quarters are cramped but cosy. The walls are dank and dark but there are soft comforts, plush chairs and plumped cushions. The girls audibly sigh with relief when they see them. The large women chatter with each other, sitting in small groups. So close their skin touches as it spills from their armchairs. The room is buzzing with excitement which is a sharp change from the panic and fear that was felt earlier.  
Ino enters with her weary guests and the room fades to silence as the mothers' register the new faces. Some whisper to each other with suspicion. The older woman Plenty immediately rises to greet them, a look of surprise on her face.

Furiosa bristles defensively as the large woman moves toward them, taking a protective step in front of the wives despite being barely able to stand. Their steady hands at her waist keep her from collapsing. Plenty raises her own hands, palms facing outward to show she's not a threat and Ino feels she must be the first to say something.

"The Imperator and her wives need somewhere to stay. I have offered them our milk and our beds." She says, both to Plenty and the audience of mothers.

"Why can't they go back to their vault?" someone mutters, thickening the tension in the room. A few others utter sounds of agreement.

"Ladies!" Interjects Plenty. "Why must we carry on the divide that Immortan forced upon us. These women need our help. Many of us were once like them. Who better to care for the wounded saviours of the Citadel than it's mothers."

Again sounds of agreement, many more this time, and Ino is relieved by Plenty's words of support. She always has the right words to say when Ino has none.

Many of the milking mothers who had been wives still harboured resentment. For they were thrown from the vault of filtered air and sunlight, into dark rooms with ravenous pumps. Those who had risen from the Wretched, envied the wives' ability to produce babies both healthy and living. They craved the riches that came with such a status. With their children and milk among the many things taken from them, all the mothers had left to nurture was their bitterness.

Plenty had helped change that and tried to give the women a sense of purpose. Made them think of all the children in both the Citadel and far off towns that benefited from their milk. War boys being grown up strong despite their half lives - all lies from Joe. Better still, she gave them a sense of solidarity and community. Where no one was ostracised due to where they came from. "We are all mothers here" - she would say, and they were all mothers. In some way or other.

As the sound of chatter rises once again, the wives whisper amongst themselves in confusion and Furiosa is still rigid with tension. Scanning the room with her good eye, calculating their potential escape. Plenty gestures to the women to come towards her and after a moment of hesitation they close the distance between them, half dragging Furiosa along. As the girls uneasily greet her, Plenty tries to reassure them "We are on your side" she says softy.

"We keep hearing that but it's clear we aren't welcome" retorts Toast, her eyes narrowing at the faces in the corner of the room staring with distrust.

"Give them time" replies Plenty "Trust does not come easily in this place". A snort escapes Toast but a quick jab in the ribs from Capable ensures her mouth remains shut. Furiosa nods in wordless thanks to Plenty and the world spins. The throbbing her head is like an overheated engine and she sorely wishes she could cool it.

"Let me show you to your beds" says Plenty and the wives and Furiosa follow without question.

Each bed is large enough for three wives and they are offered as many as they need. After much coaxing, Furiosa's body hits the flat mattress with a thud but she never loses the harried expression of a cornered animal ready to flee at any given moment. She has only one good eye and one good arm and she has never felt so vulnerable. Each tight breath is an agony far worse than when the knife went in. There are gashes on her shoulder and a heavy absence of weight. Serving as a constant reminder of how her metal limb was ripped from her body almost taking her with it. Instead she focuses on her legs as a means of escape, flexing the muscles and counting the places where it hurts. Capable lies next to her, quiet and thoughtful, while the rest of the wives claim the adjacent bed. Dag and Cheedo lay together whispering while Toast sits on the edge of the bed, unloading and reloading her revolver out of nervous habit. _Click. Chamber. Bullets. Click._

Ino watches warily from a few beds along. She has been told to keep a sharp eye and she is suddenly not sure she made the right decision bringing the women here. The glares she receives from her fellow milking mothers affirms this thought. She sighs and lies back on her bed, the rough linen quilt scratching her face as she watches Toasts fingers glide deftly over the hard metal of the gun. _Click. Chamber. Bullets..._

Ino wonders how something so small can contain so much power, both the gun and the girl. Toast's eyes bore into the silver bullets lined up in her palm and Ino is sure even they must feel intimidated. _...Bullets. Click._ Eventually Toast stops reloading and the girls stop whispering and tiredness takes all of them by a firm hold.


End file.
